


Dry Your Tears

by QueenSarge



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:08:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSarge/pseuds/QueenSarge
Summary: Tyler doesn't just feel. He feels with a depth that most people cannot comprehend.





	Dry Your Tears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tomtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomtastic/gifts).



> Not every story gets a happy ending.

Tyler didn’t exactly go through emotions like normal people, that much was obvious as soon as you met him. It was incredibly easy for him to slip into a negative emotion, and as soon as he did he felt it to the depths of his soul. Expressed it with a violent passion that scared strangers.

 

It was both a good and a bad thing. On one hand, whenever one of his friends got hurt Tyler would hunt the attacker with a vicious anger that burned in his overly expressive blue eyes. On the other hand, whenever you upset him he would go barrelling down a dark road of self loathing that was incredibly hard to stop. 

 

In the early days, it had been easy to stop a wave of righteous fury. All you had to do was call upon Craig, and a couple soft touches later Tyler was running his hands through his hair and growling in a contained, much softer rage. 

 

But the years wore down upon Tyler, and everyone feared for the day that Craig wouldn’t be able to calm him.

 

Until, that is, that day finally came. 

 

And on that day, Tyler was a hurricane of years of bottled emotions and no one could stop him. Not even if they’d wanted to. 

 

* * *

 

It had all started with Brock, the one weak spot in everyone’s walls of armor. Seeing him run into the living room, breathless and crying, had stopped everything. 

 

“Brock, what the hell? What’s wrong?” Brian had immediately been on damage control, hands gentle on Brock’s shoulders as he took the smaller man in, looking him over once and frowning at the blood spattered against his jeans and covering his shoes. 

 

It had been impossible to tell what he was saying through all the tears, but somehow Tyler knew immediately. Before Craig could launch himself across the couch, Tyler had already hurtled a lamp into the wall and stormed over to Brock’s side. Just a couple touches on his arms was all it took to piece it together, and then Tyler was speaking again. “Where’s Evan? He was supposed to be with you, Brock. Damn it, this was supposed to be an easy fucking smash-and-grab!”

 

Brian flinched at Tyler’s sharp tone, the anger lacing his loud, furious voice. And then the words seemed to click in his mind.  _ Evan. The blood. _ Oh God. “Brock, no no no no no, tell me he’s okay, tell me the cops got him, God, tell me anything!  _ Please!”  _

 

But all Brian’s words did was make Brock cry harder, and that seemed to snap everyone.  _ Not Evan. The one smiling piece of glue that kept their group coordinated on heists, kept everyone laughing through the bullets and the blood and the fear. _

 

Brian,though he would never admit it aloud, immediately broke apart against Brock’s shoulder, sobbing violently into his companion. Craig, however, froze on the spot. No, no no no no no. Tyler and Evan had been nearly inseparable best friends for years and years. 

 

When he spoke, it was a voice soft and full of caution. “Tyler?”

 

Brock looked up at that, brown puppy dog eyes full of regret and tears. His eyes met Tyler’s, and what he saw looking back at him was truly terrifying. An anger unlike any he had ever seen, and hurt that rivaled his own. 

 

Tyler had always felt emotions with a depth that none of the others could quite grasp. 

 

The doorknob hit the door so hard it left a gaping hole, which Brock thought rather poetic, even if it would have to be fixed. 

 

Craig followed Tyler out the door as soon as Tyler left, smaller legs having to work harder to catch up with someone as tall and enraged as Tyler. 

 

“Tyler,  _ please! Stop! _ ” Craig’s words did nothing, he knew that his taller companion could render himself deaf if he so chose. And right now, it seemed that he so chose. Tyler had to stop eventually, and it appeared that ‘eventually’ was the elevator doors. As soon as he stopped, Craig latched himself onto Tyler’s wrist, an action that had Tyler’s attention in seconds. 

 

“ _ What. _ ” And his voice was poison when he spoke. Pained, angry poison that would seep out and destroy anything it touched. Much like the man himself. 

 

Craig almost turned around and booked it back to the apartment just at the way Tyler looked at him, but instead he steeled himself as he spoke next. “You  _ can’t  _ go.” And before Tyler could snap at him, he spoke again. “Evan wouldn’t have wanted you to martyr yourself because he got gunned down in a 7/11.”

 

But by the way Tyler looked at him, by the way Tyler spoke, Craig knew he’d chosen the wrong words. 

 

“And just what the  _ fuck  _ do you know about what he wanted, huh? He was my best goddamn friend,  _ Mini _ ,” and Tyler stabbed one finger into Craig’s chest and fuck if that didn’t break his heart. “So if I go down there and find his fucking body, don’t go looking when I don’t come back.”

 

Craig stared at him blankly, the words processing just as the elevator doors closed.

 

And in that short moment, all the apartment complex could hear was agonized screaming. 


End file.
